XV. TO HERACLES THE LION-HEARTED (9 lines)

(ll. 1-8) I will sing of Heracles, the son of Zeus and much the
mightiest of men on earth.  Alcmena bare him in Thebes, the city
of lovely dances, when the dark-clouded Son of Cronos had lain
with her.  Once he used to wander over unmeasured tracts of land
and sea at the bidding of King Eurystheus, and himself did many
deeds of violence and endured many; but now he lives happily in
the glorious home of snowy Olympus, and has neat-ankled **** for
his wife.

(l. 9) Hail, lord, son of Zeus!  Give me success and prosperity.

In vain to me the smiling mornings shine,
And redd’ning Phoebus lifts his golden fire:
The birds in vain their amorous descant join;
Or cheerful fields resume their green attire:
These ears, alas! for other notes repine,
A different object do these eyes require:
My lonely anguish melts no heart but mine;
And in my breast the imperfect joys expire.
Yet morning smiles the busy race to cheer,
And new-born pleasure brings to happier men:
The fields to all their wonted tribute bear;
To warm their little loves the birds complain:
I fruitless mourn to him that cannot hear,
And weep the more, because I weep in vain.

My wife, a psychiatrist, sleeps
through my reading and writing in bed,
the half-whispered lines,
manuscripts piled between us,

but in the deep part of night
when her beeper sounds
she bolts awake to return the page
of a patient afraid he'll **** himself.

She sits in her robe in the kitchen,
listening to the anguished voice
on the phone. She becomes
the vessel that contains his fear,

someone he can trust to tell
things I would tell to a poem.

Wine comes in at the mouth
And love comes in at the eye;
That's all we shall know for truth
Before we grow old and die.
I lift the glass to my mouth,
I look at you, and I sigh.

Dear Mr. Ocean -
I believe you waved at me?
        I know this is my second letter
Please find within some thoughts
              from me to you
        from white to blue
then return in kind, won't you kindly:

... We may wish for you to always be
       a soft sea
                because soft, see
        means gently, quietly, carefully
remember -
                gentlemen wave politely
    so just lull this cradled ark
           gently
                      please,
    Sir, if you wish to take this further
or invite me to horizons
                  to dance
          in the near future
                              perhaps
            (one sunset sky?)
 from crests to deep
               from sand to breeze
  
        my soft Sea - be gentlemanly...

Good tidings,
and all blessings,
current and all that come to be
return to me kindly, won't you please,
        Dearest Mr. Ocean -
You may
        Write to me.

...
  in the quiet of the
              evening
when my fingers feel
     the frost
my bed invites
      these tired eyes
   to tea
           with
   scones and dream
                             ...

Another day
another penny earned

Another mistake
another lesson learned

Another attraction
another head turned

Another spark
     saw
another fire burned

In the hour of death, after this life’s whim,
When the heart beats low, and the eyes grow dim,
And pain has exhausted every limb—
  The lover of the Lord shall trust in Him.

When the will has forgotten the lifelong aim,
And the mind can only disgrace its fame,
And a man is uncertain of his own name—
  The power of the Lord shall fill this frame.

When the last sigh is heaved, and the last tear shed,
And the coffin is waiting beside the bed,
And the widow and child forsake the dead—
  The angel of the Lord shall lift this head.

For even the purest delight may pall,
And power must fail, and the pride must fall,
And the love of the dearest friends grow small—
  But the glory of the Lord is all in all.

The man who rightly acts without coercion
Will not be grieved, can never wholly sink in wretchedness;
While the lawless criminal is forcibly dragged under
In the current of time when from the shattered mast
The elements rip down his sails.
He shouts, there is no ear to hear him
Struggling, hopeless, at the maelstrom's center.
Gods laugh at the transgressor now,
Watching him, his pride now wrecked,
Caught in desperation's shackles.
He flees the rocks in vain;
His fortunes smash on retribution's reef
And, unmourned, he is engulfed.